


From the Start of Time

by chvystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvystiel/pseuds/chvystiel
Summary: Inspired by this tweet: https://twitter.com/Daina_91880/status/1092524393761308673"Don't imagine a Destiel hug that turns into a forehead touch that turns into a nose nuzzle that turns into a soft first kiss that turns into Cas lighting up and shoving Dean against the wall because he was basically just given permission to get handsy."





	From the Start of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 3AM and finally got around to editing it. BUT it's still shit so enjoy :)))

It’s been a long couple of days, so when Dean pulls into the bunker’s garage he finally lets himself feel the weight of everything. He almost ended up in that box trapped at the bottom of the ocean; almost never saw Sam or Cas or Mom or anyone for who knows how long, if ever again. He lets himself feel all of it for just a few moments, as long as he can bear, before shoving it away and scraping up some hope to replace it. For now at least, hope is what’s going to keep him going. And after all, Dean’s pretty used to only having hope to hold onto.

Dean, Sam and Cas all climb out of the Impala. They’re exhausted both physically and emotionally, it’s written on all their faces. Despite the burden they all carry, Sam and Cas have a light in their eyes and gentle smiles on the corners of their mouths, like a sigh of relief, of cautious perseverance and hope, a little grateful that they’ve taken Dean off his war path of self destruction momentarily. It’s enough. 

Sam massages his neck and yawns. “I’m gonna go pass out,” he says. Before leaving, he clears his throat and catches Dean’s eyes. “Thank you, Dean, for believing in us and for believing in yourself. We’ll figure something out.”

“I know we will, Sammy,” Dean says. It almost feels like a lie, but fake it ‘till you make it right?

“Night, Cas,” Sam says. “Thanks for all your help with, well, just about everything.”

“Goodnight Sam,” replies Cas with an appreciative nod.

When the door from the garage back into the bunker closes behind Sam, Dean turns to Cas. “You really believe we got a shot at finding a different way?”

Cas holds Dean’s eyes steadily. He glances down briefly before looking at Dean again and says softly, “I know the obstacles you and your brother have faced and overcome before. This is just another one of those obstacles. It feels impossible right now but even when I’ve felt the weight of other impossible situations, you and Sam find a way. You always do.”

Dean steps towards Cas, “And if our luck’s finally run out?”

Cas furrows his brow, “Luck? I think it’s a disservice to the both of you, to us, if you call everything that’s been accomplished luck.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cas,” Dean says. He shifts his weight and glances down. “I mean it.”

Cas smiles, steps forward and grips Dean in a tight hug. Dean hesitates before hugging back just as fiercely, his throat tightening a little. He swallows, blinking away some wetness from his eyes. He pulls back, but only just, still holding Cas by his arms. Cas lets his hands rest on Dean’s shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles there. They hold each other’s eyes, both aware how prolonged the touch has been but both not wanting it to stop. Their foreheads touch gently. Dean swims in the blue of Cas’s eyes, breathing the angel in. Sweet like honey and warm like home. He closes his eyes as their noses brush softly. Dean’s heart is racing, drumming loudly in his ears. He opens his eyes and gasps a little, Cas is so close. Dean’s gaze flickers down to Cas’s lips and back up to the angel’s eyes. He decides then and there to give in. To give in and feel everything all at once; every pining emotion, every touch exchanged, everything he’s felt about Cas that he’s tried so hard to deny. 

They kiss, Dean’s slips slotting perfectly with Cas’s. So soft it almost feels like they’re not even touching. They press together, hands on each other’s faces, sweet and beautiful and soft. Dean feels a tear absently fall down his cheek. Finally.

Cas breaks the kiss first and Dean mumbles, “Don’t stop.” Then he sees the angel’s face. Maybe it was just a trick of the light or the literal brilliance of Cas’s freakin’ halo, but the angel is goddamn glowing. Dean knows he’s blushing furiously, can feel the heat climbing his neck and blooming on his cheeks but he can’t stop it. Not when the most beautiful man he’s ever known is standing in front of him like this. All the times Dean let himself just for a moment fantasize about how incredibly beautiful Cas’s eyes are, how his lips are the perfect shade of pink, how tousled dark hair would look after… none of it compares to the real thing. Now Cas stands before him, inches from his face, eyes wide, cheeks hot like Dean’s. It’s goddamn breathtaking.

Then they’re back together again but this kiss isn’t sweet and new, it’s fiery and passionate. It’s a long awaited hunger that’s finally being satisfied. It’s loud and messy and filled with tongue and Dean’s pretty sure he’s never ached for someone’s hands on him more in his life than right in this moment. Cas can feel it, chasing Dean’s lust as it grows hotter and hotter. Cas turns Dean around, hands on hips, and shoves him into the wall. Dean’s pretty sure something is digging into his back but he doesn’t care. Cas kisses Dean’s jaw, kisses his neck, his chest, anywhere he can find skin. Dean’s eyes fly open when Cas puts his hand straight on Dean’s dick.

“Mmm…” Cas hums, right in Dean’s ear. The friction is driving Dean fucking crazy, his vision’s nearly gone white.

“Cas-‘ Dean barely chokes out before his jeans are unzipped and Cas fists a hand around him. Dean lets out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

“You’re perfect,” Cas whispers, maintaining his rhythmic pumping.

“Jesus, we probably look like a goddamn pair of teenagers right now,” Dean says. He laughs a little and shiver of electricity runs down his spine. He can feel the tension in his lower abdomen building as Cas strokes him, faster and faster.

“Cum, Dean,” Cas says roughly, almost a command. Dean’s voice cracks, letting out a muted sound as he quickly obliges to the angel’s words. He jerks and shudders through his orgasm, cumming all over Cas’s pants.

When Dean finishes thrusting into Cas’s hand, Cas steps back and gives Dean a once over, dragging his eyes up and down the man’s sweaty, breathless body.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Cas says, cracking a satisfied, sideways grin.

Dean laughs again, feeling totally vulnerable and exposed, and also the happiest he’s been in maybe his entire life. “You’re telling me,” he says. “I’ve spent nights awake thinking about your hands on me, Cas.”

Cas raises an eyebrow and pecks Dean’s lips. “I’ve known you many years, Dean Winchester, yet somehow you never cease to amaze me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, tucking himself back into his pants and attempting to organize his thoughts again. He looks down at Cas’s pants. “Damn, sorry about that.” Cas grins and shrugs. 

Dean yawns and starts for the door that leads to the rest of the bunker. He stops when he’s almost reached it and turns to look at Cas, his hand outstretched. “I know you don’t sleep, but can you stay with me?”

Cas smiles and kisses the back of Dean’s hand before interlocking their fingers. “Of course.”

“I’m beat,” Dean sighs. “But you can bet your feathery ass I’m repaying the favour tomorrow night.”

Cas laughs, a real genuine laugh. “I’ll be looking forward to it, trust me.”


End file.
